


Breathless Words and Bloody Knees

by orphan_account



Series: Prompts [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic!Gallavich, M/M, Probably ooc, big brother!Mickey, big brother!ian, but nothing that's not on the show, carl is barely mentioned in the show for me so idk, engaged!gallavich, i love him but he's hard to write for, little bit o' violence from carl, oh heck ill just say it, protective!carl, slurs tw, this is not mpreg sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7581250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: So what if Carl brags about doing cool shit with Mickey, who is considered a fucking legend in crime among the street kids, to his friends, only for them to witness Ian and Mickey doing VERY domestic and sappy stuff (I thought about them seeing a very pregnant Mickey but I’m not sure if you are cool with mpeg, so, whatever you feel comfortable)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless Words and Bloody Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I feel like I played it a little fast and loose with this prompt, so apologies if it's not what you expected! However, I'm still pretty happy with it! 
> 
> Also, I decided not to go with mpreg. Not because I have anything against mpreg, I'm just kind of "eh" about it the same way I'm "eh" about werewolf AUs...but thanks so much to the anon for sending me this prompt! It was hella fun :))

After Carl stopped dealing, he lost a lot of street cred, which was worrying in the Southside. He didn’t want anyone thinking they could mess with him or his family because of it. Luckily, Ian and Mickey had gotten back together after Ian had done a whole lot of grovelling. Mickey was around the Gallaghers constantly now, which meant he was a Gallagher by association. As soon as word got around about that, Carl’s cred went through the roof.  
  
    Mickey Milkovich was a fucking legend to Southside kids. Some didn’t even believe most of the stories about him were true, mainly because that seemed insane. Carl, though, knew that almost all of them were true. He had been there to witness a few of them.  
  
    The only problem now, though, is that people had thought Mickey had gone a bit soft. He hadn’t done a lot of the things he used to now, so he was kind of becoming old news. Sure, everything he had done before was still legendary and you would still keep the fuck away from him, but he didn’t seem as impressive anymore. The kid a few blocks over was topping Mickey’s popularity with the shit he was pulling.  
  
    So some punks thought it had been funny to slash Carl’s bike tyres, clearly thinking they could get away with it. Obviously, Carl had to rectify that shit.  
  
    They were having a neighbourhood party in the Gallagher backyard and one kid had come up to Carl, where he was leaning against the pool, and started asking about where Mickey was and when he would show up. Carl saw this as the opportunity it was, and started talking about some of the stuff he and Mickey did when they hung out.  
  
    ‘You did fucking not blow up a cat,’ one asshole argued and rolled his eyes.  
  
    He might have exaggerated some of these stories.  
  
    Carl narrowed his eyes, leaning forward threateningly. ‘You callin’ me a fuckin’ liar?’  
  
    ‘Yeah!’  
  
    ‘Wait till Mick gets here, he’ll tell you,’ Carl barked, not knowing why the fuck he said that when Mickey would absolutely _not_ back him up about this. ‘He’ll even tell you a few stories himself. One word: bank robbery.’  
  
    ‘That’s two words,’ Debbie corrected in passing.  
  
    ‘Fuck off!’ Carl snapped.  
  
    Ian had texted and let everyone know they would be there in a few minutes, and Carl was becoming more and more panicked. Why the fuck had he made up those stories? They had done other cool shit he could’ve bragged about, but he had to lie instead. Usually, that would be fine, because his brothers or whatever would pretend it happened, but Mickey didn’t really give a shit about his street cred.  
  
    When they arrived, Carl raced over to them to fill Mickey in and hopefully get him to agree to lie. Once he reached them, he hissed, ‘Can I talk to you?’  
  
    Mickey frowned, nonplussed at this request. ‘In a minute, man, we just fuckin’ got here.’  
  
    Ian was grinning from ear to ear dopily, which immediately made Carl suspicious. ‘Plus, we have something to announce first.’  
  
    ‘Oh, shit, what?’ Carl asked, annoyed at the soft smile that was growing on Mickey’s face. ‘Wait, dude, look a little more thug for me, will you?’  
  
    Ian and Mickey both gave him a confused look.  
  
    ‘Carl, what the fuck are you talking about?’ Ian asked. ‘Why do you want Mickey to look “more thug”?’  
  
    ‘Look, I kinda told a few lies about some of the stuff we’ve done to get my street cred up, and for them to actually seem true, Mickey’s gotta act a little more…I dunno…gangsta?’  
  
    Mickey huffed, rolling his eyes. ‘Christ, kid, can I not get a moment of peace?’  
  
    Ian sighed, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Carl, I know that you’ve gotten yourself in some shit, but this night is kind of important for us.’  
  
    ‘What, why?’  
  
    ‘I asked your brother to marry me, you dumbass,’ Mickey snapped.  
  
    ‘What?!’ Debbie squealed, apparently having overheard. ‘You’re getting married?! Aw, guys, that’s so cute!’  
  
    ‘What?!’ Carl snapped. ‘No, that’s not cute.’ He shushed Debbie before raising his voice a little. ‘Nothing’s cute over here! Nah, that’s _dangerous_. Yeah. That’s a good plan, Mick. We _should_ do that, but maybe wait until the heat dies down first.’  
  
    ‘Oh, shut the fuck up, Carl; no one’s buying it,’ Fiona said dismissively before giving Ian and Mickey a joint hug.  
  
    ‘Stop hugging!’ Carl hissed, glancing back at his friends every so often to see them now snickering as Ian and Mickey kissed softly. ‘No, stop fucking kissing!’  
  
    When they refused, then going as far as _nuzzling each other’s goddamn faces_ , Carl gave up, deciding he’d better go and do damage control.  
  
*  
  
Mickey snickered, pulling away from their nuzzling to see Carl storming off. ‘Jesus, it’s fun to mess with that kid.’  
  
    Ian nodded in agreement, pecking his fiancée’s lips again. ‘Should we be even _more_ nauseatingly sappy to annoy him?’  
  
    ‘You mean even more than you already are?’ Mandy snorted as she strode past them, heading for the snack table.  
  
    ‘Fuck off,’ Mickey snapped.  
  
    ‘You know he’s beginning to sound like you,’ Ian said as he observed Carl talking to his friends, waving his hands about animatedly.  
  
    ‘He is fuckin’ not.’ Mickey rolled his eyes.  
  
*  
  
Carl was still desperately trying to regain his badass points with the guys, while his brother and his soon-to-be brother-in-law had been doing everything they could to derail his plans. They had been holding hands, sitting in each other’s laps. Once he’d even seen Mickey feed Ian a cupcake — _piece by piece_. It had been disgustingly domestic and the guys were looking less and less impressed.  
  
    ‘And then Mickey got shot in the _fuckin’_ ass,’ Carl continued his story, which was actually true.  
  
    ‘Oh, give it the fuck _up_ , Gallagher,’ a guy laughed. ‘They’re fucking slow-dancing right now, and you’re tryin’ to sell Mickey as the badass he _used_ to be?’  
  
    Carl glanced behind him to see that they were, indeed, slow-dancing. Every so often, they would look his way and snicker, so he knew they weren’t just doing this for themselves. Bastards.  
  
    ‘Yeah, we all know that Milkovich is just a fuckin’ pussy like you Gallaghers now,’ another growled, voice loud enough for Ian and Mickey to stop. ‘Fuckin’ _faggot_.’  
  
    Carl’s head snapped back to glower at the guy so quickly they were all surprised he hadn’t gotten whiplash. He took a step forward, anger radiating off him in waves. Just like when he was a kid, all he saw was red and he couldn’t help himself as he slammed his fist into the guy’s face, following him to the ground to pin him down.  
  
    ‘Wanna run that past me again?’ Carl snarled, pulling the guy’s arm back so hard it was about to break.  
  
    ‘No,’ the guy whimpered, no one else making a move to help seeing as Mickey and Ian had joined now to watch.  
  
    ‘Then _apologise_ , shit-dick,’ Carl ordered.  
  
    ‘I’m sorry!’ he cried out.  
  
    Carl reluctantly let him go, moving away as he addressed the entire group. ‘Anyone that insults _my fucking family_ has me to deal with, you hear me?’  
  
    ‘Mini Mickey,’ V quietly commented somewhere a few feet away with a laugh.  
  
    The group nodded before dispersing around the party, deciding to just blend in and try not to get their asses kicked.  
  
    ‘Yeah, spread the word,’ Carl muttered to himself before looking up at Ian and Mickey. ‘Are you two done with your embarrassing shit now?’  
  
    Ian and Mickey exchanged grins before hugging Carl.  
  
    ‘Our hero!’ Ian cried out, faking being all choked up.  
  
    ‘What a brave fucker,’ Mickey added.  
  
    ‘Get the fuck off me, you goddamn dicks.’  
  
    ‘Told you,’ Ian murmured to Mickey under his breath as they pulled away.  
  
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Carl asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
    ‘Nothing,’ Ian dismissed before grabbing Mickey’s hand and pulling him away to enjoy the party.  
  
    For the rest of the night, Carl noticed Ian and Mickey kissing and cuddling casually. Mickey even got up to get Ian a drink once. Apparently, they were pretty sappy and domestic all on their own, without the motivation of embarrassing Carl.  
  
    As Mickey whispered something in Ian’s ear before kissing his temple, and Ian responded with a shy kind of smile as he gazed down at the ring on his finger, Carl decided that maybe Mickey not being as much of a tough badass thug as he used to be wasn’t such a bad thing.  
  
    Mickey apparently noticed one of the guys from before staring at them and cracked his knuckles, scowling. The guy quickly looked away and Mickey smirked, looking pretty fucking pleased with himself.  
  
    Still, the dude was fucking scary when he needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is based off "Flying Model Rockets" by The Front Bottoms, which has always given me a Carl vibe for some reason?? 
> 
> Tumblr: hopelessandweak (feel free to talk, send me prompts, whatever!)


End file.
